"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" The boy with blonde hair asked? The shadows played across his face in obscure ways making him look like a Picasso portrait, and the dark room was filled with candles. He wanted the theatrics, after all it was traditional. He lay upon the bed, soft and satin drapes fell aroud him, and black flowers, all manner of them were arranged in jars.
The other boy mused as he lay there, his tousled black hair and dark violet eyes shone with a lost maliciousness.
"I don't dream, anymore." He stared at the celing. The blonde boy took one of his wrists and cut, as he he lifted up the other one next.
"It